Even Good Things can Turn Bad

I’m thinking about my childhood, sort of. More skittering away from nasty parts of my childhood, and so not really thinking about it at all. There is a lot of talk about child sexual abuse lately, with the Royal Commission and so on. I can read about it and not feel touched at all because my sexual abuse as a child wasn’t like that at all. I wasn’t in an institute being abused by a priest or a teacher.

But abuse is abuse. Nasty adult things being done to a very young child is evil, no matter who is doing it. My mind tries to pretend it has nothing to do with me, but of course, even if I can say my abuse was not that abuse, I am a member of Australian society and these things affect us all. It’s the people who refuse to have anything to do with things, and ignore things that are also complicit in the abuse to some extent.

I feel I have played a small part in raising awareness about child abuse, especially child sexual abuse, through my writing of the Poetry Collection that has the same name as this blogsite. I wrote the poems, I collected them together, I paid for the printing of the book, and I did a little bit about marketing the book.

The book was published quite a few years ago now though around the beginning of the 21st century. My little book hasn’t stopped anyone from being abused, it hasn’t lead to the arrest and charging of any sex abusers. I don’t think it was ever really going to do those things anyway. My abuser died many, many years ago, with no-one ever knowing of his abuse apart from me.

I’m OK, I’m living a good life, with a good marriage and a fine son. I can pretend I was never abused. Well I could, but of course some things just stay there, in your head, in your life, even though they may not be the main thing. I’m no super dooper book seller, but this little Poetry Collection “damaged children, Precious Gems” is for sale in a cafe I spend a lot of time in. I’ve spoken to various people there, about sexual abuse, and signed and sold copies of the book.

At the cafe there is a group that meets once a week. We are all women who have been damaged in some ways in our past by men. This group, called Precious Gems, don’t talk about the bad things, but the good things that are happening now. Being with these wonderful women is a wonderful thing, and I’m so glad that we have come together to offer support to each other. Things like this add shiny places to my life, to lighten the dark places that lurk there behind me.

I’m glad people are getting into trouble for the terrible things they have done to those who don’t deserve it. I just wish there was a way to make it end now and forever. But I know it won’t …



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